Eyes of the Heart
by HikariYagami22
Summary: Helena was always like a bird - free and dreamy. Someone who no fancy clothes or noble titles were capable of caging. The Maker, however, cut her wings when He made her mage. As if her life wasn't challenging enough, trapped in the Circle and harboring a forbidden love for a Templar, a tragedy puts her determination to the test, and may change their lives forever. Cousland x OC
1. Bird in the Cage

A_/N: New story - yay! _

_Okay, this short tale is a spin-off of my main work, Kallian's Sketchbook. They both take place in the same universe, but that doesn't mean you have to read one to understand the other. They're independent stories. However, if you enjoy this one, why not take a look at Kali's tale? ;)_

_Anyway, the story is mainly in third person, but I will eventually add some bits in first person. They're written in itallic, and will be easily spotted ;)_

_BEAR HUGS to my beta - thanks __**wintryone**__!_

_Have fun!_

_**Cover link:** Still WIP, but I will provide the link to the final version soon!_

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_**Eyes of the Heart**_

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**Act I**

**Bird in the Cage**

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**Helena**

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"_Enchanter_ Helena... " the Templar pronounced her new title, half surprised, half incredulous, allowing the words to echo slowly through the stone walls, as if savoring the so harmonious sound that every syllable created in the air upon leaving his lips. "If the lady had told me that six years ago, I would have been very skeptical."

The mage by his side crossed her arms, leaning against one of the pillars of the large meeting room, where all the major announcements of the Circle and the Chantry services usually took place. Her bangs fell over her nose with the motion, obligating her to abandon her angry stance shortly thereafter, to hold back her hair. The templar watched intently - his graphite eyes captured every little detail of her movements, way too interested for someone who was simply looking for signs of blood magic .

But she knew best - even behind his closed helmet, she could sense the power of that look - with the corners of his eyes contorting slightly downward - and she was keen to take longer than necessary to perform such a simple task, allowing her neck to be exposed a bit more than she had planned.

And the deep sigh the knight in gray armor released, indicating that she had managed to get to him, made her smile .

In the background Helena could see the sisters and brothers packing their stuff after another peaceful sermon with no incidents. Some of them were speaking with the remaining mages - the most fervent Andrastians, who regardless of their religion labeling them as monsters, always kept their faith unshakable, and even confined like animals, still believed in a better future .

When she was finally done, a few long seconds later, and the great lock of black hair finally fell on the lapel of her red robe, she decided to respond to his provocation.

"Your lack of faith is touching." She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and letting her arms fall to her sides. That service had been exceptionally boring, and left her completely exhausted. But she didn't have much choice - indeed, neither of them could but follow the rigid schedule of the Circle. Many of these activities included long and tiresome biweekly meetings with the Chantry's people to talk about the teachings of the Maker - how the mages were dangerous to society and how confinement was something good not only for them, but for the rest of the world as well.

...

_And, as you can imagine, it wasn't pleasant. No one had born to be forced to listen to someone telling you, week after week, how __**undesireable**__ your presence could be, or how your __**existence**__ alone was a grave sin. Personally, I didn't like those moments. Incidentally, I _**_loathed_**_ them, with all the hatred and disgust that word could carry._

_My name is Helena. I am a mage, as you may have noticed. Well, not just a Mage anymore, but also a future Enchanter. Not that there is anything special about it... After all , First Enchanter or Apprentice , there is no difference. We are all fated to be locked in this tower for the rest of our lives anyway, so those titles were just mere formalities. But at least it meant that I had earned some respect in here. Someone had recognized my value. So, I will allow myself to enjoy this little pleasure this time, feeling a bit excited about the little facts that make my __**dead**__ routine something a little more interesting ._

_..._

"As you can see, Lady Cousland, I'm a Templar." He gestured, giving a slight emphasis on the sword symbol across his chestplate with his hand. "I'm afraid that _lack of faith_ is not a valid reason."

"So, what would be valid, _bucket head_?" Helena asked, pushing on the pillar behind her and standing up again, taking her first steps toward the door. The footsteps behind her were the hint that he was following her closely.

The Templar sighed again .

"The lady would not like to know." He opened the door and held it for her to pass.

...

_This gentlemanly, yet playfully masked Templar behind me was named Maximilian. He is my, uh, shadow. Yes, __**shadow**__, you didn't hear it wrong. He follows me all day, every day, watching me, looking for any sign of irregularity in my behavior, or any minimal reason to drag me back to the dungeons and have me made tranquil. Seems an overreaction, right? With so many mages inside this blighted tower, I'd been singled out from them all._

_Incidentally, it was the kind of company that __**nobody**__ wanted. After all, why anyone in their right mind want to be followed by a Templar all the time?_

_Besides being a pain in the ass, there is no privacy for anything, much less peace, and it keeps people away from you. It generates __**fear**__, as if there was a vicious, gray aura emanating from his body that killed everything around him. It sounds a bit exaggerating again, right? But, follow me for a moment... All the mages in this tower were afraid of the Templars. They are evil, steal us from our families, turn us Tranquil, lock us in dungeons... That kind of thing. So you definitely __**don't**__ want to have a Templar around you. Whether for fear of being mistaken as my accomplice, or to be too close to the enemy. It's always the same thing._

**_Fear_**_._

_Fear is a powerful force. It's what keeps the system working. It's what keeps the world turning. It's what keeps the mages trapped. It's what keeps people isolated from each other. There are no demons, no religions that separate people. It's fear. Simple as that._

...

Helena sighed this time. "I won't have an answer, it seems."

"Very clever of you, lady," He closed the door behind him, the corners of his eyes twitching back down slightly.

The corridor was gray, lit only by torches hanging on the walls. If she were not so accustomed to the gloom of the tower at dusk, the scene would certainly have given her chills. The corridors seemed to grow in length and height before the dance of the weak flames reflected on the walls, which gave demonic forms to the shadows of the simplest decorative pieces - too many ways to play with the imagination and the sharpen the senses, like a bad feeling that pursues the adventurers into their dreams. But unfortunately she was too used to the darkness of the place, so ignoring the portents was not an impossible task .

Not for those waging a daily battle against the loneliness of the soul.

"You could have told me," she said, after spending some time in a comfortable silence, rubbing her arms slightly. As they climbed, the stronger the cold breezes seemed to blow, forcing their entry through the small opened windows. The hot friction of her palms against her skin was a delicious consolation for that winter night .

"What makes the lady think that I knew something about it?" Maximilian asked, confused. He was her shadow, yes, a kind of spy that was intended to closely monitor all activities of the mage - from the moment she woke up until the moment her head touched the pillow - but that did not mean he was privy to all decisions made regarding the problematic lady.

He was a pawn, nothing else. A pawn with a somewhat thankless task, regardless how the perspective was analyzed.

Even though she had earned some respect within the circle, Helena remembered her rebellious youth all too well. She'd been aloof, and often hostile, which had earned her a pass for nearly a year in the tower's dungeon. Deep underground, below even the basement, it was where they sent those who were considered too dangerous to be allowed contact with others.

The trouble had begun from the very first day, when she was being transported from her home in Highever to the Circle. Just outside the tower, in a surge of daring and courage, she'd destroyed the wagon when trying to freeze the Templars who held her trapped. She'd nearly escaped, and if not for Greagoir's presence, she probably would have done so.

Her doom had been laid upon her - a unanimous decision to make her Tranquil - except for one dissenting vote. Not even her status as a Teyrn's daughter would have saved her, but for First Enchanter Irving's intervention. Irving had seen the potential for goodness within her, hidden beneath her defiant posturing, and had put a halt to the Right of Tranquility just in time. Though Irving believed in her rehabilitation, Greagoir had insisted she be sent to the dungeons anyway - the one condition to prevent her from being made Tranquil.

Helena still shuddered to remember the months spent in the dank darkness and solitude of her cramped and cold cell. Yet, Irving's plan had worked. Over time, her hostility and determination faded from the endless days locked away in such a forbidding place, and gave way to resignation. She'd just turned sixteen upon her release, and that first year trying to integrate into the circle had been nearly as bad. Everywhere she went she was treated with suspicion.

Even after she successfully completed her Harrowing over a year later, she still was not trusted. Greagoir had assigned Maximilian to the thankless task of following her wherever she went, to ensure that her newfound peaceful behavior was not temporary.

...

_The truth is that they __**feared **__me ._

_I'm not bragging - I do not think that I am everything they all say. But the point is that I have ears. I heard things._

_While I was a potential enemy that needed to be controlled (I've been to the point of becoming a vegetable three times so far), I believe they think it's more feasible to have me as an ally instead. Well, I would not be here wasting ironies and dull jokes if I was not, right?_

_Anyway, I think Max is here to do more than just investigate my behavior... They want to ensure that I was ( and that I will continue to be) on the right side, and at the same time, to be able to nip it in the bud at the first sign of something going wrong._

_Call me paranoid - I don't care. Just give me a proper explanation for keeping a Templar after someone for more than __**six years**__._

...

"You're Greagoir's nephew, for the love of the Maker," She shrugged, with that exaggerated expression that people use when they are stating the obvious. "He should had mentioned something about it while you are sitting at the dinner table."

"There is no dining table," Maximilian replied bitterly, and the silence that followed made her feel guilty for having brought the subject up.

Family was not exactly a topic he liked to talk about, and it didn't take long for her to realize that. He always looked away, change the subject or remained silent in his perpetual denial of granting details or answers to her questions. Despite the fact that he was the nephew of Greagoir, she knew nothing more about him. Parents, siblings, home, a mabari... Nothing.

He was mysterious in many ways.

First, and perhaps most importantly , was his face. She had _never_seen him without his armor - not even once during the six years she'd known him. All she could see through the small opening in his closed helmet was his tanned skin and his graphite eyes. And his beautiful voice, of course - strong, always serene, which held a faint trace of hoarseness when he pronounced his words.

Other than that... He kept a bit of distance in most cases.

They were already going up the last flight of stairs that lead to the top of the tower when, Helena finally plucked up the courage to change the subject.

"So, bucket head," Helena coughed, starting to feel moisture cooling her lungs. Despite the chills from time to time, she felt comfortable in colder climates. It was comfy, even in a crude sort of way. "You do not get cold inside that metal armor?"

"You make me walk after you so often that it warms me well enough, thank you," he replied, the relaxed and light tone again in his voice .

Helena smiled, taking advantage of the fact that he was walking in front of her to allow her feelings to be revealed on her face, for a change. It would be perfect if she did not have to suppress them.

But then, his words finally reached her. _So often_ - that wasn't true anymore.

"Liar," she said and sighed - her smile fading almost instantly as she remembered the recent change. "You haven't been following me much lately ... "

"And I believe that soon the lady will be free of my watch, now that you will be an Enchanter," said Maximilian, and his tone was almost sad. Or at least, that's what Helena had concluded. "Anxious?"

...

_No._

_I had noticed his absence . Obviously , if you 're used to having someone following you every minute of every day , it is impossible to not notice when on, an ordinary autumn afternoon, you look back and suddenly your second shadow is not there anymore._

_While this constant vigilance had bothered me a bit, it also had created a certain __**dependence**__ on my part ._

_The truth was that I liked Max_

_He was ... professional. Upright. Distant. Formal. A perfect Templar._

_And I had every reason in the world to hate him, but for me, he was someone I loved to have around. My only friend inside the tower, maybe. At least ... the only friend I could say that truly knew who I was._

_We talked a lot , teased with each other frequently, and even__** flirt**_**_ed_**_ from time to time._

_It was... Fun to have him around._

_If I said I was anxious to get rid of him ... It would be a big lie ._

...

" I cannot wait," she lied, feeling a twinge of sadness pulsing in her chest . She had missed the Templar in her routine, suffering with the increasingly dark holes that his absence had created inside her chest during these past weeks.

It was like she was hanging onto the only thing that kept her sane, as if he was the only barrier that separated the faithful and reliable Enchanter from the uncontrollable beast that had been lost somewhere between the cold stones of the dungeons.

Helena brought a clenched fist to her chest and closed her eyes. Her rapid breathing was the only thing that betrayed her panic; the fear of this being their last meeting. After all, Templars come and go, and with nothing to keep him in the tower, it was most like he would leave as soon as he had the chance.

After all, who would want to stay in this tower, if one had the chance to leave?

With a sad smile, she just kept walking, her slow steps aiming at the door down the hall.

"The lady is very troublesome." His tone was playful, but she managed to capture a small trace of hesitation in his voice. "I have no doubt that you will run into trouble as soon as I take my eyes off you."

And these were the moments when he seemed to forget his duty and end up allowing a bit of himself to emerge through the surface, which made her believe that maybe, just maybe somewhere in that gray armor, there was a small part of him that was as frustrated with these new changes as she was.

"You… " She suddenly stopped and turned abruptly, facing him."I'll show you who's ..." She gasped, swallowing hard , having come face to face with a gray wall of armor only a few inches from her face; her nose was almost touching the tip of the sword carved into the breastplate of the Templar."...troublemaker..." she finished on a breath.

Maximilian stopped very close to Helena's body, standing on tiptoe to avoid to run into her. As a result, his face ended up too near the young mage's, hovering a few centimeters above the top of her head.

And by lifting her head up just a bit, it was enough to further reduce this distance, allowing the sweet scent of honey and flowers from her hair to invade his helmet.

"Beautiful eyes, Max," she said seductively, placing a finger just below the opening of his helmet. Slowly, she dragged her finger downward, tracing a invisible line to the base of the metal piece, pushing it almost imperceptibly upwards. "When will I be able to see the rest of your face?"

...

_Teasing him was__** delicious.**_

_Especially because of his embarrassed reactions._

_There was a moment , a brief moment of silence before he answered, that was worth everything: there was a twinge of __**longing**__ in his eyes every time I did this -and I can swear again in the name of the Maker that it was true. See, I did not have much of his body available to study ... Everything was always about his eyes._

_His beautiful graphite eyes._

_You know, people have this annoying habit of focusing only on what leaps to the eye . Clothes, armor , fancy acessories, a different hair cut... They unconsciously choose something they like about someone and just observe those details . And most of the time too superficially . What I mean is that this lack of observation skills means we loose some interesting aspects about the person who is right next to us - small demonstrations of the body in its own language that can tell us much more than the words coming out of the person's mouth._

_What I mean is that there are so many triflling things around us that, sometimes, our most basic instincts of observation can be easily suppressed. And I'm part of that majority. Or was, anyway._

_Truth be told, I felta lack of completeness inhis human figure over the years. Very much so . It is not easy to talk with walking armor all the time . It felt like I was talking to a statue, because all I had was a glimpse of his eyes, in the center of a whole world of metal._

_Then, I discovered that the eyes alone can deceive. They exists to generate comfort , not truths. And the truth resided in the small things, that could only be perceived when analyzed together with the other senses, in a consensus._

_With the little I had available, I searched for my own truth hidden inside the armor._

_Through his eyes, I learned to read his reactions;_

_From the tone of his words, I learned to identify facets of his humor;_

_From his movements, I could determine his comfort level;_

_It was all I had. That's what I __**thought**__ I knew about him ._

_It was what gave me enough courage to insist on a flirtation or innuendo even when my legs were shaking like a leaf ._

...

The only noise that dared to disturb the peace of that cold night was the wind whistling in through the cracks in the stone, and the crackling wood of the burning torches on the walls .

" I fear that day will not come , Lady Cousland , " Maximilian said after a long silence , gently holding her hand . Helena noticed his delay in releasing it , and again wondered if that twinge of longing was there once again. If ..." He began quietly , staring at her intently

Helena 's legs buckled , but she did not allow herself to waver. Not now , when he seemed about to say something important.

When he said nothing , she gulped . _Were her cheeks as red as they were hot?_ , she wondered . Because he was close to her - too close - and she was sure that she could have felt his breath caressing her cheeks if his annoying helmet had not been in her way.

"If ... " he repeated, strangely still. Nothing could remove from her mind that this was a sign that he was holding something back. " If one day the Lady should run away , how will I be able to maintain my disguise if you already know my face ? " he replied, using his best tactic to dodge the dangerous momentum.

And from her frown, he had done it.

Helena crossed her arms, turning away from him. The burning of her cheeks did not take long to ascend to her head. " Wipe that smile off your face - it was not funny."

"What makes you so sure that I 'm smiling?" Maximilian asked, holding his hands behind his back, in a typical military fashion.

"The corners of your eyes sag down when you're laughing." She sighed , resuming her walking. Frustrations aside, she concluded that it was better this way. After all , what could happen ? Even more so, in the hallway , exposed as they were .

And he was a Templar - there were no arguments against facts.

"Very observant of you, Lady Cousland," he said, his tone a little lower . Helena glanced over her shoulder to be sure, and a smile appeared on her lips when she saw him staring straight ahead.

He was _embarrassed_ .

Just as she knew when he was smiling, she also knew when he was dowdy - his voice was always slightly hoarse , lower than normal and he avoided looking her directly in the eyes . It was typical self defensive, human behavior, to avoid what you do not want to admit.

"I bet you're an ugly old man ,toothless and covered in warts. Therefore, you hide your face with a bucket." Helena said , concluding that it would be better to change the subject.

She did not want to make him change his mind - the night was theirs , after all . _Only theirs_. The last thing she wanted was risking to have him give up on it because of nonsense .

"This is a helmet , not a bucket," said Maximilian , in his usual tone.

"Yeah, it is. So?" The young mage stood in front of a large, dark wooden door at the end of the long corridor . Before she could open it , the hand of the Templar quickly grabbed the doorknob, opening it for her.

"So what ?" In addition to his formal stance, he was also a perfect gentleman , and it was one of the things she liked the most about him - the small gestures of kindness and caring he showed toward her.

It was another of the few signs that confirmed there might be a remote possibility that the affection she felt for him was not one-sided. Especially because most of these gestures were something uniquely for her. _Only for her_.

At least she never saw him being so kind with any other person .

"Are you an ugly old man ?" Helena asked, entering the room . The small place was nothing special, but the huge window in the middle of the room was worth the long climb up to the top of the tower. It was completely fenced and protected by high-level magic , but the view was splendid . Especially with the full moon that night , throwing its silver mantle across the land.

It was as far as any mage of that place would ever get - the top of cold and gloomy tower, with a privileged view of a better life and a future of freedom.

Maximilain closed the door behind him with an audible click.

"Maybe yes, maybe no," he replied , his mocking tone back in his words." The lady is very creative , I'm sure the best thing to do is to let your fertile mind answer the question . At least it will keep the lady busy and out of trouble for a while."

"Today you are inspired, being Maximilian." She smiled, slowly leaning against the wall near the window , letting the moonlight bathed her silver .. "So, what will we do tonight?"

...

_What a terrible irony ._

_I had a privileged view of everything surrounding lake Calenhad from here - the still waters of the lake , the old, stone bridge, the wharf jutting from the shore, the rooftop of the Spoiled Princess, the mountains rising into the sky. And if my imagination was especially inspired , I could even fool myself intothinking that I could see the glimmering lights of Redcliff in the distance ._

_So, this was my life ._

_A wandering threat, perpetually locked in a tower full of hypocrites , cruel ironies and frightened children separated from their parents . And do not forget the unbearable subjection to Chantry dogma every week._

_But , one thing , one little detail kept me from completely despising these encounters with the loyal dogs of the Maker ._

_Regardless of the release of his duty as my shadow , Maximilian always stood with me after the sermons . So I found myself waiting anxiously for these nights in question , not caring much about how tiring or annoying they might be , because I knew that afterward, he would be there waiting for me ._

_He was a Templar ._

_And I knew how wrong it was . How foolish I was for allowing my mind to feed my deepest and stupidest feelings, instead of accepting the reality that was right under my nose._

_How wrong I was for wanting something like this to happen…._

_But after a while ... I also found myself not caring anymore. Do you know why ? Because I could not be more screwed up and lost than I was now . I no longer had control of my mind , or my life , much less my heart , and everything put upon me, every path and every part of my soul seemed to converge into a single truth ._

**_I was a mage, and was in love with a Templar._**

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_A/N: I'm kinda nervous about this story, so I would love to hear what you think about it. Anything, just a few words would be wonderful. You have no idea about how much it would mean to me :)_

_Thanks for reading! :D_


	2. The Circle of Impurity

**_Eyes of the Heart_**

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**Act 2 **

**The Circle of Impurity**

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**Maximilian**

"What about the island of Llomerryn ? East of Antiva?" he asked leaning back against the wall, on the other side of the window. " I think I have a story or two about that place."

"Tell me more," she implored, her eyes suddenly lit with a new brightness. Maker, how he loved those moments. She looked at him expectantly, eager to absorb every word he would say about the places and the experiences he explored in his travels. While it was a delicious sensation, and also the worst kind of poison - his heart ached to know that she could never see the places that she dreamed about.

...

_Helena was an adventurer at heart ._

_She dreamed of traveling around the world , of going to places where no one else had been and seeing all the good that Thedas had to offer ._

_She was a good person , despite what they say about her short temper and her ... difficulties ... in following orders ._

_What a great irony ... that someone like her , kind and gentle , innocent somehow, born with this cursed fate ….She , who repudiated the limited space between four walls with such force , was doomed to perpetual confinement ..._

_I believe that the Maker has a bigger plan for all of us , but at times like this ... I seriously questioned his methods ._

...

_How beautiful she is_ , he thought , getting lost for a moment in the green traces crossing her light brown eyes. They glowed so strongly, an unusual light that seemed to brighten wherever she went. Even that dark corridor seemed to fill with life when she was around .

But Helena would never know how Maximilian felt about her - how he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his whole life, or how the sun rose and set with the simple sound of her sweet voice. He was a Templar - he could not make the mistake of talking about what he should not. Or uttering the words he was not allowed to speak.

So even though it hurt him, to repress these feelings which suffocated him to the point that it hindered his breathing, he kept silent . He _had_ to pretend that nothing untoward was happening and that everything was normal - for his own sake and for hers, too.

But even though it was forbidden , he could not stop this peculiar habit - a ritual between them , which happened every week, always after Chantry services: He told her a wild story about somewhere - the colors, shapes, people, landscapes ... All the places he knew she dreamed of knowing .

And she paid attention to every little detail .

...

_I discovered this secret desire of hers when , one day, she asked me about where I was born . At first, I thought it was just an innocent question , but it was her insatiable curiosity that caught my attention the most, and made me realize that her childhood dream was still alive ._

_It broke my heart ._

_I knew she would never see any of the places I described to her , but even so , I allowed myself to be a human being, not only the straight Templar, nephew of the boss. I fed this little flame of her dream, because I was too selfish to let the brightness in her eyes die ._

_I was also too selfish to give up that bright smile that curved her lips every time the image of a place took shape in her mind , and that charming look she threw at me every time the story ended and she finally opened her eyes , returning from her daydreaming ._

_And the worst thing was that ... Almost all of these stories were inventions that I created from books and paintings that I studied at night, before our meeting . All to feed my petty selfishness ._

_Maker ... I was a terrible person ._

...

And this process was repeated for all the long years that had passed since then . Even though he was a senior templar now and she was a faithful Enchanter , who proved her loyalty to the tower and no longer needed surveillance , they continued meeting after the services . Maximilian suspected that Helena knew he had not traveled much, and that most of the stories were only inventions , but by the blessing of the Maker, she never said anything .

Perhpas she enjoyed those moments as much as he did. It was a possibility , however remote . After all, what mage in her right mind would want be near a Templar ? She should be happy with her new "_freedom_" , and perhaps the reason for their meetings was just a damn addiction she could not shake .

Just as she was _his_ addiction.

...

_The truth is that I had several opportunities to get out of that tower ._

_My behavior assured me more than respect - my advice and experience had earned me many recommendations, even to serve in Denerim if I had chosen to do so._

_Hunt apostates throughout Ferelden , build a life in the capital ... All of this was within reach of my hands more than once ._

_ But I chose to stay in Lake Calenhad ._

_I chose to stay beside Helena Cousland ._

...

Yes, for almost eight years, he had loved her in silence, from a distance, hiding every smile and every blush behind his closed helmet. Nobody would ever know what was happening inside the armor, behind the exemplary Templar in the exercise of his duty. No one would ever know that, behind that perfect soldier, there was standing an incomplete man.

No one would ever know that the shadow had a heart, which pounded for the only person he could never have.

It was not just armor and the two -year gap that separated them . He'd made his vows , and she was a mage. They would never have a future together , or a family . He knew that it hurt to stay close to her , precisely because he would have to keep struggling to repress his feelings , but to stay away would be infinitely worse.

Just to know that she was okay, that was near him and happy, within whatever extent possible , for him it was enough . .

It had to be enough, because it would be all he could ever have.

After all ... If someone supected, even for a second, that they had some kind of bond ... something that indicated a possible relationship between the two , anything , even without evidence, would separate them forever.

And if Greagoir still wanted to turn her Tranquil, as was his initial plan ... Then, he would have a good reason, and there will be no Irving or confinement to a dungeon that could save her this time.

Just the thought of never seeing that glimmer of determination and the life that shone brightly in her eyes every time he finished a story was scary. All the mages in the tower had the same opaque and dull eyes, dead by imprisonment and lack of perspective, but she did not. Maximilian saw the light in her eyes, a strong will to live she so very often repressed for her own good, except in that moment, when all her dreams surfaced and she allowed herself to have, once again, the excitement and innocence of a child, who ventured into the yard house.

It was like an injection of life into the veins of the Templar. And he had become so addicted to this pulse of life, to her presence and her energy, that he prefered to choose his silent suffering instead of solitude.

...

_Life in the Circle could be very depressing, not just for mages , but for the Templars as well .. Unless , of course , you're a sadist or psychopath, who feels happiness in feeding your soul with the suffering of the others . Because if that is the case , then you are in the right place._

_When I signed up for this job, I thought, like most people, the magi were terrible abominations. A real attack on the peace and happiness of society and the natural cycle that the Maker had created for us. And of course, with so much power, I also concluded that they were dangerous and should be contained . It is normal to fear what you can not fully understand._

_But as soon as I arrived in the tower ... I almost went crazy._

**_They were people_**_ ._

_People like you and me - with stories, feelings, perspectives and dreams ._

_People with sad tales , scared and without fully understanding about what was happening, they were uprooted from their lives and thrown in that tower as if they were garbage that society pushed into a wasteland to set afire._

_The 'normal' people felt pleasure from lighting the torch ._

_And the mages only crime was being born. Simple as that._

_When I found out about the Rite of Tranquility... I lost my purpose. Turning bright children into those things was an attack on good sense and to life itself. To the _Maker_ himself, whom most of them said they served._

_There were so many cruelties, beginning with the bullying behavior of some Templars. When they were not freely torturing the mages in every way imaginable, they were being quite abusive with them, if you understand what I mean. There was also the blood magic factor, which was the perfect excuse to push the rite to its limits, even when the only crime committed was to yell their dissatisfaction slightly higher than the others._

_It was a lot of injustice in one single place._

_I had just asked for my retirement when Helena crossed my path._

_That rebel mage with the sharp tongue caught my attention from the very beginning. Not only for her beauty, but for her unique way of being. She had life pulsing through her veins and a different aura that those mages had not. The type of energy that emanated from her was one of those that you feel more than motivated to keep it burning._

_And when Greagoir talked about his plans for her... __**that**__ returned my motivation tenfold._

_My purpose then become to protect her. Make sure that she would walk the line, so no one would have any reason to force the unfortunate process upon her. I didn't want to see her suffering such a fateful destiny._

_And thanks to the Maker, it did not happen._

_I usually say that every time a mage becomes Tranquil, a star dies in the sky. And my purpose was to make sure that my star would keep shining, whatever the cost._

_Even though a star would never be aware of the presence of the small beings, just to be under her light was enough._

_It had to be._


End file.
